Father And Baby Quotes & Sayings

Brasi left the room. Two of his men assisted the midwife and the baby was born, the mother was exhausted and went into a deep sleep. Brasi was summoned and Filomena, who had wrapped the newborn child in an extra blanket, extended the bundle to him and said, "If you're the father, take her. My work is finished." Brasi glared at her, malevolent, insanity stamped on his face. "Yes, I'm the father," he said. "But I don't want any of that race to live. Take it down to the basement and throw it into the furnace. — Mario Puzo

Dead Butterfly
By Ellen Bass
For months my daughter carried
a dead monarch in a quart mason jar.
To and from school in her backpack,
to her only friend's house. At the dinner table
it sat like a guest alongside the pot roast.
She took it to bed, propped by her pillow.
Was it the year her brother was born?
Was this her own too-fragile baby
that had lived - so briefly - in its glassed world?
Or the year she refused to go to her father's house?
Was this the holding-her-breath girl she became there?
This plump child in her rolled-down socks
I sometimes wanted to haul back inside me
and carry safe again. What was her fierce
commitment? I never understood.
We just lived with the dead winged thing
as part of her, as part of us,
weightless in its heavy jar. — Ellen Bass

Dad pressed against my mind. Please, Allison. Let me, just this once, hold my son.
I shouldn't. Nothing good ever came from letting my father have his way. But I could feel his love for this baby. And even if he couldn't love me, I knew that at this moment, before the baby could grow up and become a disappointment to him, he truly loved him.
I slowly stepped away from the front of my mind, letting him fill that space, letting him feel through my hands, see through my eyes.
"He's amazing," Dad said through me. "You're amazing." He looked up at Violet, and she smiled. — Devon Monk

That there are such devices as firearms, as easy to operate as cigarette lighters and as cheap as toasters, capable at anybody's whim of killing Father or Fats or Abraham Lincoln or John Lennon or Martin Luther King, Jr., or a woman pushing a baby carriage, should be proof enough for anybody that being alive is a crock of shit. — Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

A baby boy has a special way of brining out the man in his father and the little boy in his grandfather. — Tanya Masse

Stephanie,' Valerie said. 'She's going to have a baby, and she's getting married.'
My father was confused. He looked around the room. No Joe. No Ranger. His eyes locked on Diesel. 'Not the psycho,' he said.
Diesel blew out a sigh.
My father turned to my mother. 'Get me the carving knife. Make sure it's sharp. — Janet Evanovich

The young man being embraced by the Father is no longer just one repentant sinner, but the whole of humanity returning to God. The broken body of the prodigal becomes the broken body of humanity, and the baby-like face of the returning child becomes the face of all suffering people longing to reenter the lost paradise. Thus Rembrandt's painting becomes more than the mere portrayal of a moving parable. It becomes the summary of the history of our salvation. The light surrounding both Father and Son now speaks of the glory that awaits the children of God. — Henri J.M. Nouwen

I am opposed to the idea of a child growing up with two gay parents. A child needs a mother and a father. I could not imagine my childhood without my mother. I also believe that it is cruel to take a baby away from its mother. — Stefano Gabbana

A father is always making his baby into a little woman. And when she is a woman he turns her back again. — Enid Bagnold

My father described me as the oldest baby he'd ever seen. I apparently was very serious and reflective. — Tim Robbins

He held her and rocked her, believing, rightly or wrongly, that Ellie wept for the very intractability of death, its imperviousness to argument or to a little girl's tears; that she wept over its cruel unpredictability; and that she wept because of the human being's wonderful, deadly ability to translate symbols into conclusions that were either fine and noble or blackly terrifying. If all those animals had died and been buried, then Church could die
(any time!)
and be buried; and if that could happen to Church, it could happen to her mother, her father, her baby brother. To herself. Death was a vague idea; the Pet Sematary was real. In the texture of those rude markers were truths which even a child's hands could feel. — Stephen King

This baby comes out of you and there's no handbook. They hand you this child and say, 'Don't kill it. Feed it, clothe it and shelter it.' I never knew what that kind of love was. I remember looking at my daughter for the first time and wondering if that's the way my father looked at me. — Alicia Coppola

I certainly like the rumour that I was the father of Elizabeth Hurley's baby. It made me think I could impregnate women in a different way to everyone else. Elizabeth and I were never alone in a room together, so I must be a very powerful man indeed. Actually, I'm thinking of suing the baby! — Matthew Perry

Breast Feeding should not be attempted by fathers with hairy chests, since they can make the baby sneeze and give it wind. — Mike Harding

I was born in New York but as a baby moved to Venezuela and Argentina. I've also lived in Denmark, where my father's from. I've traveled a lot, and having that sort of background probably increased the chance that I was going to remain curious as an adult about people who are different. — Viggo Mortensen

You're right. You and Millie look more like your mom," I said...
"That's because we spent more time with her," Henry said seriously, as if it were common knowledge, as if resemblances were based on nurture instead of nature. It was true, to a point. Mannerisms, quirks, style. All those things could be learned and copied.
"So if I spend a lot of time with Kathleen, do you think she'll start to look like me?" I asked him, steering the focus away from his father.
Henry looked doubtfully from me to my grunting, banana-bearded child and back again.
"I hope so," he said.
Georgia snickered, and I hooted and held my hand in the air so Henry could give me five.
"You hear that, Georgia? Henry hopes so," I crowed. "I guess that means your baby daddy is a beautiful man."
Henry obviously didn't mean to be funny, and he totally left me hanging. Georgia reached up and slapped my hand and winked at me. — Amy Harmon

Remember that, Crowe. Monsters walk on two legs, and they're crafty. They're real good at fooling even the smartest of men. Don't forget that. Because sometimes, you don't realize monsters are stalking you until it's too late. It's far better to be smart, to be safe, and to watch for monsters in everyone you know."
"Even Logan and Rafe?" he whispered, suddenly wondering if somehow his cousin were monsters.
He couldn't hurt his little cousins. He'd promised Dad he'd always watch out for them, and for his baby sister. What was he supposed to do if one of them was a monster?
His father gave him on of those small, man-to-man smiles Crowe always tried to get.
"Well, maybe not Logan and Rafe," his father amended. "It's hard to imagine a Callahan as a monster, don't you think?"
Crowe nodded quickly. "They're just dumb kids sometimes," he sighed. "But I make sure to tell them when they're dumb so they'll get smart. — Lora Leigh

I didn't want to miss out on a chance to congratulate you on your bouncing baby boy." Garrett's eyes trailed over to Milo who stood tall with an arrogant smile on his face next to his father. "I'm not sure on the protocol over here, though, is it customary to celebrate bastards?" Garrett's comment hit the mark just like he knew it would. The smile was wiped from Milo's face, and he stalked right up to Garrett and threw a punch at his jaw. — Tara Sivec

Well, I divide the father question into three separate categories. First, there's the sire. He makes a baby, that's it. Doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the lamb once it's' planted, though he might. Anyone with a set of gonads can be a sire. Then there's the father. He also does the fertilization, but he sticks around provides support, both financial and emotional. Then in our little corner of the world we have daddies. A daddy is the more mature man in a sexual relationship, one who provides direction, discipline...and love for his brat. — Scribe Mozell

I told him something in my gut says I am the father of Mya's baby's, and it is a strong feeling too. I hope I'm wrong, but I know in my heart I'm not. I — Jessica M

Our children are going to be remarkably stubborn," he commented as they started down the main street of town. Lily tried to ignore the avid stares of passers-by. "We aren't going to have any children," she said. Some instinct caused her to lie. "My - my monthly arrived today." Caleb fell silent, and in a sidelong glance Lily saw his disappointment. She laid a hand on his arm but could not. bring herself to admit the truth. If the major believed there was no child - indeed, no possibility of a child - he might stop pursuing Lily. The sooner he gave up, the sooner she could get on with building up her homestead and finding her sisters. She bit down on her lower lip. Of course, if there was a baby growing inside her, would it be fair to let Caleb go back to Fox Chapel without ever knowing he was about to become a father? The — Linda Lael Miller

I can only speak from my personal experience, but I've been married for ten years and barely any gay people have tried to break up my marriage. I say barely any because that Nate Berkus is a little shady. I am defenseless against his cuteness and eye for accessories. He is always convincing me to buy beautiful trinkets with our grocery money, and this drives your sweet father a bit nuts. So you might want to keep your eye on Berkus. But with the exception of him, I'm fairly certain that the only threats to your father's and my marriage are our pride, insecurity, anger, and wanderlust. Do not be afraid of people who seem different from you, baby. Different always turns out to be an illusion. Look hard. — Glennon Doyle Melton

At Christmas, I am always struck by how the spirit of togetherness lies also at the heart of the Christmas story. A young mother and a dutiful father with their baby were joined by poor shepherds and visitors from afar. They came with their gifts to worship the Christ child. — Queen Elizabeth II

I graduated from Jones College, man, in Jacksonville, Florida, baby! I couldn't get in anywhere else, man. I was the worst student ever. I couldn't get in anywhere else. My father insisted I go to college, so I graduated, made the dean's list and everything. — Joe Piscopo

There are a lot of very fine upstanding gays who are good citizens and all that. I am not making a decision for individual people. But when it comes to a societal policy, I think there are not enough babies for adoption to go around. I think a preference should be given to families with a mother and father who have a lifetime commitment. — Phyllis Schlafly

How curious, after all, is the way in which we moderns think about our world! And it is all so novel, too. The cosmology underlying our mental processes is but three centuries old a mere infant in the history of thought and yet we cling to it with the same embarrassed zeal with which a young father fondles his new-born baby. Like him, we are ignorant enough of its precise nature ; like him, we nevertheless take it piously to be ours and allow it a subtly pervasive and unhindered control over our
thinking. — E. A. Burtt

Cal 's eyes reflected a weird combination of frenzy and fear as he twisted toward his father. My God!
She's on her way to becoming the most famous physicist in the country, and she's dumb as a post ! You are not having your baby in this house! You're having it at the county hospital! — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

From the moment of birth, when the Stone-Age baby confronts the twentieth-century mother, the baby is subjected to these forces of violence called love, as its father and mother and their parents and their parents before them, have been. These forces are mainly concerned with destroying most of its potential. — R.D. Laing

My father taught me that a bill is like a crying baby and has to be attended to at once. — Anne Morrow Lindbergh

You have to admit it's embarrassing that she's pregnant at thirty-three. And he's eleven years older. I feel sorry for their baby. Think of it - when the baby is our age your mother will be almost fifty and my father will be sixty. They'll be more like grandparents than parents. — Judy Blume

My father was a jazz listener, and I think, at least before I was 5, I was not so into that. Although there were records that emphasized percussion that I liked, like Baby Dodds. — Wallace Shawn

until it reached an Asante village. There, it disappeared, becoming one with the night. Effia's father, Cobbe Otcher, left his first wife, Baaba, with the new baby so that he might survey the damage to his yams, that most precious crop known far and wide to sustain families. Cobbe had lost seven yams, and he felt each loss — Yaa Gyasi

I like Hazelle. Respect her. The explosion that killed my father took out her husband as well, leaving her with three boys and a baby due any day. — Scholastic Inc.

The memories seem to come in layers. For example, the first memory might be of incest; then they remember robes and candles; next they realize that their father or mother or both were present when they were being abused. Another layer will be the memory of seeing other people hurt and even killed. Then they remember having seen babies killed. Another layer is realizing that they participated in the sacrifices. One of the most painful memories may be that they even sacrificed their own baby. With each layer of memory comes another set of problems with which they must deal.
- Glenn L. Pace; "Ritualistic Child Abuse," memo — Glenn L. Pace

Her mother had smelled of cold and scales, her father of stone dust and dog. She imagined her husband's mother, whom she had never met, had a whiff of rotting apples, though her stationary had stunk of baby powder and rose perfume. Sally was starch, cedar, her dead grandmother sandalwood, her uncle, swiss cheese. People told her she smelled like garlic, like chalk, like nothing at all. Lotto, clean as camphor at his neck and belly, like electrified pennies at the armpit, like chlorine at the groin. She swallowed. Such things, details noticed only on the edges of thought would not return.
'Land,' Mathilde said, 'odd name for a guy like you.'
'Short for Roland,' the boy said.
Where the August sun had been steaming over the river, a green cloud was forming. It was still terrifically hot, but the birds had stopped singing. A feral cat scooted up the road on swift paws. It would rain soon.
'Alright Roland,' Mathilde said, suppressing as sigh, 'sing your song. — Lauren Groff

I believe that God protected me. I've experienced many miracles. One day, my father was arrested as I stood nearby on the street. A total stranger who was pushing a baby carriage took my hand and put it on the handle of the carriage, as if I were her child. As soon as it was safe for me, she let me walk home. — Charlotte Knobloch

Directly in front of him, holding on by a low branch, stood a naked brown baby who could just walk - as soft and as dimpled a little atom as ever came to a wolf's cave at night. He looked up into Father Wolf's face, and laughed. — Rudyard Kipling

What she wouldn't have given for her father to see her - to see his baby girl who used to count the stars now sending men to travel among them. Joshua Coleman knew as if from second sight that Katherine, his brilliant, charismatic, inquisitive youngest child - a black girl from rural West Virginia, born at a time when the odds were more likely that she would die before age thirty-five than even finish high school - would somehow, someday, unite her story with the great epic of America. And — Margot Lee Shetterly

I don't think I'll be worth shit as a father, but I'm going to be here for you and our baby until the day I die. I want you to know that I was relieved that our baby is fine, and I was devastated when I thought you might have miscarried. I'm sorry; I was a jackass because I was scared shitless. When you fell, I was terrified that I'd lost you both. I want you to have the baby Delilah. I love you more than anything, and I'll love the baby too. How can I not when it's a part of you? — Ella Fox

Lemurs are good parents but they do it in different ways. I originally studied father care. I was very interested in that and we saw that a lot of these animals that lived in pairs and the father wasn't doing anything at all for the first month. But then suddenly, when the baby got to be a certain weight then the dads chipped in and started carrying the babies which was very nice. And then if there was twins or triplets then they helped. — Patricia Wright

Anyway, time is more than counting days. On the outside, people think clocks tell them the time. They set an alarm for work and wake up to a blinking light that says six a.m. They look to an office wall to tell them if it is time to go home. The truth is, clocks don't tell time. Time is measured in meaning. I better get up for work or It's time to feed the baby. Or That was the year I got cancer or That is the day we celebrate your birthday. Or Remember when our father died or Let's remember to plant turnips this spring. It is meaning that drives most people forward into time, and it is meaning that reminds them of the past, so they know where they are in the universe. — Rene Denfeld

Rocking her gently in his arms, Wulf wondered which of them had it worse. The mother who wouldn't live to see the baby grow, or the father who was damned to watch the baby and all those after him die.' (Wulf) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I was born into the club life. My father was an Angel, and my grandfather before him. I was birthed by a club whore, suckled at the breast before the bitch ODed. I was chewed up as a sweet, blue-eyed baby boy and spat out a man. — Carmen Jenner

In the beloved community of 'Our Father,' the same desperate love that a mother has for her baby or that a child has for his or her daddy is extended to all our human family. Biological love is too small a vision. Nationalism is far too myopic. A love for our own relatives or the people of our own country is not a bad things. But our love does not stop at the border. We now have a family that includes by transcends biology and geography. We have family in Iraq, Peru, Afghanistan and Sudan. We have family members who are starving and homeless, dying of AIDS and living in the midst of war. This is the new family of our Father. — Shane Claiborne

Sol! Take your daughter, your only daughter Rachel, Whom you love, and go to the world called Hyperion and offer her there as a burnt offering at one of the places of which I shall tell you." Sol hesitated and looked back to Rachel. The baby's eyes were deep and luminous as she looked up at her father. Sol felt the unspoken yes. Holding her tightly, he stepped forward into the darkness and raised his voice against the silence: "Listen! There will be no more offerings, neither child nor parent. There will be no more sacrifices for anyone other than our fellow human. The time of obedience and atonement is past. — Dan Simmons

After Brenda brought the baby and Tatiana fed him, she went to open the window again and then perched herself up on the window sill, cradling the infant in her arms. "Look, Anthony," whispered Tatiana in her native Russian. "Do you see? Do you see the water? It is pretty, right? And across the harbor there is a big city with people and streets, and parks. Anthony, as soon as I am better, we will take one of those loud ferry boats and walk on the streets of New York. Would you like that?" Stroking her infant son's face, Tatiana stared across the water. "Your father would," she whispered. — Paullina Simons

Fine,' Aria conceded. 'But *I'll* carry her.' She grabbed the baby seeat from the back. A smell of baby powder wafted up to greet her, bringing a lump in her throat. Her father Byron, and his girlfriend, Meredith, had just had a baby, and she loved Lola with all her heart. If she looked too long at this baby, she might love her just as much. — Sara Shepard

Judith Rey watches the young woman. Once upon a time, I had a baby daughter. I dressed her in frilly frocks, enrolled her for ballet classes, and sent her to horse-riding camp five summers in a row. But look at her. She turned into Lester anyway. She kisses Luisa's forehead. Luisa frowns, suspiciously, like a teenager. What? — David Mitchell

"She cries." Ashley's high-pitched voice cut through the silence as if she were dispensing juicy country-club gossip. "All the time. She really misses Aires."
Both my father and I turned our heads to look at the blond bimbo. I willed her to continue while my father, I'm sure, willed her to shut up. God listened to me for once. Ashley went on, "We all miss him. It's so sad that the baby will never know him."
And once again, welcome to the Ashley show, sponsored by Ashley and my father's money. — Katie McGarry

She is shocked by the rows of thick Plexiglas windows, each equipped with a telephone, each with a prisoner on one side and an outsider on the other. There is a teenage girl chatting with a prisoner who is presumably her father. There's a married couple talking to their daughter. There's a woman with a baby in her arms, sobbing into her phone as she begs her husband not to plead guilty for his crimes. Jail is terrifying to Geraldine, not only because it's a house of criminals but also because it's a cold slap in the face, a reminder of where she will eventually end up. "You've got to stay with me the whole time, Callo! I'm serious, you CANNOT leave me here."

"I'll never," Callo vows, but he's eyeing her strangely. "Just remember which side of the glass you're on right now, Geraldine. — Rebecca McNutt

is Whitney? Is that your dealer?" "Whitney Houston," Mom said. "You know, dear. She was that singer who sang that song you like that Helena performed." "'Hit Me Baby, One More Time?" "That's Britney, dear." "'Dirty?" "That was Christina." "Umbrella?" "And that was Rihanna. Larry, you're embarrassing yourself. You have a gay son, for God's sake. How can you not know your divas?" Mom sounded affronted. "Paul? Paul! If you can hear me, don't listen to your father! He obviously doesn't know his ass from his elbow!" "Language," Dad scolded. "And I know my divas. I know them very well. What about that Woman Goo-Goo that Helena performs like? — T.J. Klune

When we [adoption agency] have a birth mother who is pregnant and she doesn't know the race of the father, she is using drugs, and she is in crisis, usually we cannot place that baby with a heterosexual family. Almost all of the times when we have a drug-addicted child, we place the baby in a homosexual family. — Rosie O'Donnell

The adhan," the father explained. "God is great; there is no God but Allah. Muhammad is the messenger of Allah." he looked up at me and smiled. "In Islam, we want the first words a child hears to be a prayer."
It seemed absolutely fitting, give the miracle that every baby is.
The differences between the Muslim father's request and the request made by Turk Bauer was like the difference between day and night.
Between love and hate. — Jodi Picoult

No wonder Freddie experienced the sort of abysmal soul-sadness which afflicts one of Tolstoi's Russian peasants when, after putting in a heavy day's work strangling his father, beating his wife, and dropping the baby into the city reservoir, he turns to the cupboard, only to find the vodka bottle empty. — P.G. Wodehouse

Caleb had taken his son out of the room to be bathed, and when he returned carrying the squalling bundle his face glowed with delight. "He's mad as hell, isn't he?" Lily smiled despite her weariness. "You would be, too, if you'd just been through a birthing." Caleb kissed her forehead and laid the baby beside her on the bed. "I love you, Mrs. Halliday," he said, "but I think maybe we'd better stop with Joss here." Lily shook her head resolutely. "Oh, no. I want more children, and I'll have them. Doc Lindsay may be an old sawbones, but I think he could handle the task of delivering me of a few more babies like this one." Little Joss was still howling, so Lily picked him up and put him to her breast. Even though her milk wasn't in yet, he seemed to be comforted just by suckling, and Lily smiled at that. He was just like his father. As — Linda Lael Miller

Your second choice is to give me the chance to be everything you want in a husband and father. I want us to be a family, Ruby. I want to grow with you, learn with you, be with you. I want to love you and our baby, but whichever option you choose I want to be near this child forever. I'm done running from love. I've found it in you and I'm here to stay. I love you, Ruby Fleming."
-- Christo — Barbara DeLeo

The coarsest father gains a new impulse to labor from the moment of his baby's birth; he scarcely sees it when awake, and yet it is with him all the time. Every stroke he strikes is for his child. New social aims, new moral motives, come vaguely up to him. — Thomas Wentworth Higginson

Blaire,
This was my grandmother's. My father's mother. She came to visit me before she passed away. I have fond memories of her visits and when she passed on she left this ring to me. In her will I was told to give it to the woman who completes me. She said it was given to her by my grandfather who passed away when my dad was just a baby but that she'd never loved another the way she'd loved him. He was her heart. You are mine.
This is your something old.
I love you,
Rush — Abbi Glines

I'm a war baby: I was brought up with rationing, and my parents always had to struggle. I remember when I was sent to boarding school - Prior Park College in Bath - my father was asked how he was going to pay the fees, and he replied: 'In arrears.' — Cameron Mackintosh

The little child who was to have done so much was born before the turf was planted on its father's grave. It was a boy; and I, my husband, and my guardian gave him his father's name. The help that my dear counted on did come to her, though it came, in the eternal wisdom, for another purpose. Though to bless and restore his mother, not his father, was the errand of this baby, its power was mighty to do it. When I saw the strength of the weak little hand and how its touch could heal my darling's heart and raised hope within her, I felt a new sense of the goodness and the tenderness of God. — Charles Dickens

I know they argue about whether or not it's right, whether or not the baby is alive at this point or that point in its growth inside the womb. This wasn't about that. It wasn't what the lawyers did. It wasn't what the doctors did, it wasn't what the woman did. It was what the mother and father did together. — Denis Johnson

I consider myself a modern-day dad, where I still got rock'n'roll in me, but yet I take being a parent and relationships very seriously in life. I'm tired of the image of the father as a fat, beer-chugging, stupid guy. That image has to change. I'm changing it, baby, one city at a time. — Jim Breuer

Mothers and fathers act in mostly similar ways toward their young children. Psychologists are still highlighting small differencesrather than the overwhelming similarities in parents' behaviors. I think this is a hangover from the 1950s re-emergence of father as a parent. He has to be special. The best summary of the evidence on mothers and fathers with their babies is that young children of both sexes, in most circumstances, like both parents equally well. Fathers, like mothers, are good parents first and gender representatives second. — Sandra Scarr

The kind of man who thinks that helping with the dishes is beneath him will also think that helping with the baby is beneath him, and then he certainly is not going to be a very successful father. — Eleanor Roosevelt

Sylvie's sort of pregnant. Well not sort of. She is. Pregnant. Actually pregnant with a baby.'
'Oh Dexter! Do you know the father? I'm kidding! Congratulations, Dex. God, aren't you meant to space your bombshells out a bit. Not just drop them all at once?'
She held his face in both hands, looked at it.
'You're getting married?-'
'Yes'
-'And you're going to be a father?'
'I know! Fuck me a father!'
'Is that allowed? I mean will they let you?'
'Apparently'
'I think it's wonderful. Fucking hell, Dexter, I turn my back for one minute ... !'
She hugged him once again her arms high round his neck. She felt drunk, full of affection and a certain sadness too, as if something was coming to an end. She wanted to say something along these lines, but thought it best to do this through a joke.
'Of course you've destroyed any chance I had of future happiness, but I'm delighted for you, really. — David Nicholls

Derek cuddled his daughter against his shoulder and spoke in a mixture of baby words and cockney, a language only she seemed to understand. — Lisa Kleypas

wounded by the son of Venus; and for Mrs Plornish there was no such music at the Opera as the small internal flutterings and chirpings wherein he would discharge himself of these ditties, like a weak, little, broken barrel-organ, ground by a baby. On his 'days out,' those flecks of light in his flat vista of pollard old men,' it was at once Mrs Plornish's delight and sorrow, when he was strong with meat, and had taken his full halfpenny-worth of porter, to say, 'Sing us a song, Father.' Then he would give them Chloe, and if he were in pretty good spirits, Phyllis also - Strephon he had hardly been up to since he went into retirement - and then would Mrs Plornish declare she did — Charles Dickens

He can't be a baby forever. He's a Stark, and near four." Robb sighed. "Well, Mother will be home soon. And I'll bring back Father, I promise. — George R R Martin

Brett: Husband! Father of my child! Dance partner, emergency grilled-cheese maker. The kind of fellow who knows how to pick the wine. The kind of fellow who looks great in a tux. Also a zombie-tux. The guy with the generous laugh and the glorious whistle. The guy who has the answer. The man who makes my child laugh till he falls down. The man who makes me laugh till I fall down. The guy who lets me ask all sorts of invasive, inappropriate, and intrusive questions about being a guy. The man who read and reread and reread and then reread, and not only gave advice, but gave me a bourbon app. You're it, baby. Thanks for marrying me. Two words, always. — Gillian Flynn

And thus it was a right old shambles as anyone could see. Call it Chaos, if you like, the state of affairs when Love went wrong. And everyone wanted to know who the culprit was, who had stolen what rightfully belonged to Hephaestus. And as Zeus was non-commital in the matter, Hera naturally suspected him as the culprit. But the Goddesses agreed that the baby when born, would naturally resemble his father. And thus, when Priapus was born, the culprit would be exposed. — Nicholas Chong

I had seen that once before, bleeding water. A little baby I worked on as a resident in training. That poor kid had been shot as well - his father had blasted away the top of his head with a shotgun - and we couldn't begin to stop the bloodletting in that case. "Looking pretty thin down here," I hollered when the stuff coming out his wounds was no more than pink salt water. That baby's heart stopped, started, stopped and started a dozen times before it finally gave up the ghost and we pronounced him. I could have read a newspaper through the watery stuff coming out his veins by then. — Edison McDaniels

His eyes widened. "Pain? Darling, you haven't yet experienced the pain I can inflict when I've been played for a fool. I'm in awe at your gall to try and fool me."
Bree went still as panic froze her. Oh, God. No.
"Ah, the light bulb finally goes off," he purred against her face; his voice low and
cold.
Even knowing who he was, and the family he came from, Bree could say that deep inside, she'd never felt any real fear of him.
She did now. He knew. The look on his face told her he knew that she had lied about him being her baby's father. Frantically, she grasped for any foothold she could find. "I don't know what you're talking-"
"DON'T!" he snapped, grabbing the sides of her face. — E. Jamie

My anger mounted. "What about your son and me? What about us? How can you even think of leaving me alone here with our baby boy? Telemachus needs his father. What's going to happen to us if you leave? Who will help me raise him? Who will take care of us? You know as well as I do some of the men around here are nothing but a bunch of scoundrels. Mark my words, Odysseus. The second you're gone, they'll swarm in here like bees around honey. They'll take over the place. I won't be able to do a thing to stop them. — Tamara Agha-Jaffar

I stared at her - unable to accept that at one time I was growing inside her. I was once just a couple of cells. My father and my mother were naked something had to be satisfactory about it, because he came inside her and she got pregnant. She, like me, was once a baby in her mother's stomach and so on and so forth and so it goes. So it goes. — Peter Hedges

Jacob wore a tetchy air of mild resentment that Paul couldn't begin to understand. He was forty and his father was bankrolling him; what could he possibly feel aggrieved about? He pushed unrealized potential before him like a baby carriage. — Amy Waldman

Man!" he snapped. "A man's cub. Look!" Directly in front of him, holding on by a low branch, stood a naked brown baby who could just walk - as soft and as dimpled a little atom as ever came to a wolf's cave at night. He looked up into Father Wolf's face, and laughed. "Is that a man's cub?" said Mother Wolf. "I have never seen one. Bring it here." A Wolf accustomed to moving his own cubs can, if necessary, mouth an egg without breaking it, and though Father Wolf's jaws closed right on the child's back not a tooth even scratched the skin as he laid it down among the cubs. "How little! How naked, — Rudyard Kipling

I had so looked forward to her walking." Maud carried her thirteen-month-old sister a few steps away and put her down on her feet. "Walk to Daddy," Maud said, and the baby threw out her arms and took the few steps across the space to her father's chair. — Katherine Paterson

Theodore Rex. Roosevelt was driven by ambition, idealism and vanity. As his daughter famously remarked: My father always wanted to be the corpse at every funeral, the bride at every wedding, and the baby at every christening. — Margaret MacMillan

As he played it off to Nat, Archy knew - felt, like the baby-shaped ache in his left arm - that neither his ability nor his willingness to care for Rolando English for an hour, a day, a week, had anything whatsoever to do with his willingness or ability to be a father to the forthcoming child now putting the finishing touches on its respiratory and endocrine systems in the dark laboratory of his wife's womb. Wiping — Michael Chabon

All my friends were in the park smoking weed and getting pregnant. I didn't want to be the young black girl having a baby, a baby's father, being on welfare. That wasn't going to be my story. — Foxy Brown

thought of Dr. Court and was sorry that she was going to be disappointed. Joey knew his mother would be upset, but she had Donald and the new baby. It wouldn't take her long to see that it was all for the best. And his father. His father would just get drunk again. Joey kept his eyes open. He wanted to see the trees rush up at him. He took a long breath, held it, and dove. — Nora Roberts

Your mother holds you skin on skin and when you enter this world, feeds you with her own body; skin on skin. Your father runs his fingers over your tear stained cheek, presses his lips to your forehead; skin on skin. You make love, skin on skin with a man you love, a beautiful man. And then, if you're lucky your own baby will enter this world and you'll hold her skin on skin, feed her with your body skin on skin. It's a magical thing. — Madeline Sheehan

The world is always ending for someone. It's a good line. I give it to the father of the child. He says it to his wife. 'The world is always ending for someone,' he says. She is trying to quieten the baby, and does not hear him. I doubt that it would matter if she did. — Neil Gaiman

Freddie experienced the sort of abysmal soul-sadness which afflicts one of Tolstoy's Russian peasants when, after putting in a heavy day's work strangling his father, beating his wife, and dropping the baby into the city's reservoir, he turns to the cupboards, only to find the vodka bottle empty. — P.G. Wodehouse

Do you need hope? Look at the tiny baby in a cow trough. See the adult's gentle hands blessing the children. Hear his words of invitation and see those hands pierced with spikes. Contemplate the blood-soaked mud. View the empty tomb and the folded grave clothes. See him rise physically to return to his Father, clothed in human flesh. Anticipate his return on the clouds and your eternal union and reign with him. Don't turn away from the hope of the gospel: Christ is utterly and eternally preeminent. You need this hope to face your day; don't look away to yourself or any other person. — Elyse M. Fitzpatrick

Two days after his twelfth birthday, a fortnight before his father was jailed for debt, Charles Dickens was sent to work in a blacking factory. There, in a rat-infested room by the docks, he sat for twelve hours a day, labelling boot polish and learning the pain of abandonment. While he never spoke publicly of this ordeal, it would always be with him: in his social conscience and burning ambition, in the hordes of innocent children who languished and died in his fiction.
Pete thinks we all have a blacking factory: some awful moment, early on, when we surrender our childish hearts as surely as we lose our baby teeth. And the outcome can't be called. Some of us end up like Dickens, others like Jeffrey Dahmer. It's not a question of good or evil, Pete believes. Just the random brutality of the universe and our native ability to withstand it. — Armistead Maupin

I never asked my mother where babies came from but I remember clearly the day she volunteered the information ... my mother called me to set the table for dinner. She sat me down in the kitchen, and under the classic caveat of 'loving each other very, very much,' explained that when a man and a woman hug tightly, the man plants a seed in the woman. The seed grows into a baby. Then she sent me to the pantry to get placemats. As a direct result of this conversation, I wouldn't hug my father for two months. — Sloane Crosley

It's unbearable when someone changes around you. Just imagine that your life partner changes, then it is difficult to cope with. Or your mother. Or your father. They were strong and now they're like a baby - it's not so funny. — Michael Haneke

I have to admit that Emily is a cute kid, and I instantly understand why Ronnie has written me so many letters about his daughter-why he loves her so much. I start to think about having children with Nikki someday and I become so happy that I give little Emily a kiss on the forehead, as if she were Nikki's baby and I was her father. And then I kiss Emily's forehead again and again, until she giggles. — Matthew Quick

It's not a church, Josie. And I have an important message."
Mum gazed around her. "Bernard. Now is not the-"
"And my message is-*these*."
My father bent over and with exaggerated care pulled up his trouser legs. First the left then the right. From my position on the other side of the water tank I could see that his shins were pale and faintly blotchy. The rooftop fell silent. Everyone stared. He extended one leg.
"Smooth as a baby's backside. Go on, Josie, feel them. — Jojo Moyes

My pacifism came after I joined the army and was shipped over to Korea. There was a little one-room orphanage there called Song-do. There were 180 babies in there, and they were GI babies. The U.S. government would not acknowledge this, and the Korean government had nothing to do with them. They were living on a 100-pound bag of rice a month. Some of those kids, when they were old enough, would go out and shine shoes. They would show up at the gate of our compound to shine shoes, and you'd swear they were looking for their fathers. — Utah Phillips

When my first daughter was born, my husband held her in his hands and said, 'My God, she's so beautiful.' I unwrapped the baby from her blankets. She was average size, with long thin fingers and a random assortment of toes. Her eyes were close set, and she had her father's hooked nose. It looked better on him. — Ayelet Waldman

Having a baby isn't so bad. If you're a female Emperor penguin in the Antarctic. She lays the egg, rolls it over to the father, then takes off for warmer weather where she eats and eats and eats. For two months, the father stands stiff, without food, blind in the 24-hour dark, balancing the egg on his feet. After the little penguin is hatched, the mother sees fit to come home. — L. M. Boyd

I know he's coming by this sign, That baby's almost wild; See how he laughs and crows and starts - Heaven, bless the merry child! He's father's self in face and limb, And father's heart is strong in him. Shout, baby, shout! and clap thy hands, For father on the threshold stands. — Mary Howitt

And I think, OK. So a dog isn't the most important thing. But a dog like Honey loves one person completely, unwaveringly, with perfect faith. That has to be more important than most things.
And Gabriel, I say. He has Gabriel too.
Gil says nothing but I know the answer. The answer is that Gabriel can't save Matthew any more than Gil can, or Honey. Or Jake. But we are all woven together, like a piece of cloth, and we all support each other, for better or worse. Gabriel is just a baby but eventually he will see the world and his father as they are: imperfect, dangerous, peppered with betrayals and also with love. — Meg Rosoff

When one of Lisa's baby teeth fell out here, the tooth fairy left her 50 cents. Another tooth fell out when she was with her father in Las Vegas, and that tooth fairy left her $5. When I told Elvis that 50 cents would be more in line, he laughed. He knew I was not criticizing him; how would Elvis Presley know the going rate for a tooth? — Priscilla Presley

And finally this, when the sun was falling down so beautiful we didn't have time to give it a name, she held the child born of white mother and red father and said,' Both sides of this baby are beautiful'. — Sherman Alexie

Acheron kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Rest. We'll be back when he needs you." He watched her
climb into bed before he took his nephew down to his room.
"Well, it appears to be just the two of us, little one. What say you we get naked, drunk and find us some
wenches?"
The baby actually smiled up at him as if he understood.
Acheron nodded. "So that's it, eh? Barely a month old and you're already lecherous. You are your father's son. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

The Bishop observed later that Trinidad was treated very much like a poor relation or a servant. He was sent on errands, was told without ceremony to fetch the Padre's boots, to bring wood for the fire, to saddle his horse. Father Latour disliked his personality so much that he could scarcely look at him. His fat face was irritatingly stupid, and had the grey, oily look of soft cheeses. The corners of his mouth
were deep folds in plumpness, like the creases in a baby's legs, and the steel rim of his spectacles, where it crossed his nose, was embedded in soft flesh. He said not one word during supper, but
ate as if he were afraid of never seeing food again. When his attention left his plate for a moment, it was fixed in the same greedy way upon the girl who served the table - and who seemed to regard him with careless contempt. The student gave the impression of being always stupefied by one form of sensual disturbance or another. — Willa Cather

America used to live by the motto "Father Knows Best." Now we're lucky if "Father Knows He Has Children." We've become a nation of sperm donors and baby daddies. — Stephen Colbert